Paths Untaken
by neko-chan1
Summary: [ YuiSuboshi ] After Suboshi's death, Yui ponders about the paths she could have or should have taken. Perhaps, even though she may never meet a fairytale prince, her happy ending is still waiting for her.


Paths Untaken

Paths Untaken

Yui gazed out of her window almost in boredom, if her excitement at the date had not overpowered any other feelings present. She was finally going back to school after weeks? months? and the prospect was quite delightful after what she had been put through. 

True, school would be boring, compared to what she had faced, but a routine was precisely what she wanted, a pattern to throw herself into, to focus on and take away her thinking time. Because now her thinking always seemed to lead her to subjects that she preferred not to consider, they were like scabs, with makeshift flesh, and she didn't want to touch those unhealed wounds as yet. 

Not that she really needed to think about those issues, they had all be solved very, very, simply – everyone concerned had died or gone away… or stayed, though not to remind her. Only one person had stayed. 

But even death didn't solve some problems that lingered behind her efforts to start over, to simply know the past, whithout reviving it and living it again. Yui really didn't want to tell Miaka that her boyfriend sometimes made her feel lonely and sad, or angry and jealous on some rare occasions as she gazed at them both. But it was hard to see them both together, oh-so happily taking a stroll in the park or going to a café with each other. Miaka always invited her along, telling her to try and accept, and forgive. But she had done that, one too many times, and each time had painful memories, far too painful for her to forgive so much and so many again. 

Even there, even in that book-world, Miaka and Tamahome had been together, and taken all the walks and the drinks that they liked. Their personal quest of reviving the Suzaku had given them ample time for such pleasntries and courting, and Yui felt unreasonably jealous of that. She didn't even know who she really loved…

She started, realizing that she had been thinking about that again, touching the wounds again. She closed her eyes and sat down on the bed, she had put on her school uniform early, she was so excited, but she hadn't tied the bow yet. 

She hadn't tied it because it did what she didn't want anything of hers to do, remind her of what had happened to her in that alternate world. She had only one bow, a length of blue ribbon tied with a gold stud, and she had given that to Nakago… and in return he had given her an earing. And that ribbon… it had become so special lately that she had rejected her mother's offer to buy two new ones, she'd caught Yui fingering the ribbon many times, a vacant, lost expression on her daughter's face. 

So she was stuck with the memories, just as she was stuck with the ribbon. Taking it out of her dresser drawer, a length of azure cloth, she laid it between her hands and resolutely tied its knot, fastening the gold stud with just as much force of will. Then she turned it over in her hand, looking at its underside.

Its underside evoked so many more memories.

There, staining the dark blue cloth, was a patch of red that had dyed it an off-key shade of purple, rich like the grapes one bought at the market. Yui didn't dare touch the patch, because she knew what it was. She had lied to her mother that she'd spilled ink on it a couple of days ago, and therefore the colour was still strong, but if it was only ink, as everybody believed, Yui would have had the ribbon on with the rest of her uniform by now. 

That patch was blood. Suboshi's blood. 

Oh no, Yui knew that Suboshi would never intentionally stain her ribbon, the very fact that he had held it in his hands for about two hours was, to him, cause for happiness already. He didn't have to leave anything of his on it, he'd probably think he was insulting her if he had so much as dripped ink on one of his precious Yui-sama's possessions as Yui had lied. He simply hadn't had control of his body then. He had been dead, anyway. Or else he would have kept that ribbon like a prized possesion, which, in a way, it was. 

Suboshi… 

_The boy kneeling next to Nakago was short and stocky, surprisngly well developed for a teenager. His eyes were blue, like the sky during the late afternoon, and a mixture of confidence and pride gleamed in them as they threw flecks of sunlight around their glossy interior. Blonde hair was kept out of the way by a blue bandana, pushing it out of his eyes and ears, but that couldn't keep it from sweeping down the nape of his neck in one fall of rich yellow. _

Actually, Suboshi was quite handsome, in a cute young-boy way, his eyes huge compared to Nakago's and his child-like grin, a smile of hard-earned cockiness that fit his features so well, she had never been able to imagine a Suboshi without it. She really hadn't seen him that way before, she'd always been so preoccupied, and had always viewed him as a sort-of servant, _and_ Tamahome was so much better compared to him, but he did have his own appeal. And he was utterly devoted to her. 

Yui knew that Soi and Tomo had in actual fact been serving Nakago and therefore responded to her commands, when she gave them. But Suboshi had simply served Nakago because he saw it as a way to get closer to her, and Nakago was powerful enough to commend his respect and service. The way he viewed her was alternatingly cute and irritating, and sometimes she'd even feel a certain kinship to him, a chummy kind of friendliness that he nevertheless accepted so very gratefully, even though he had wanted more. Something more that she thought she could never give him, but he had kept on trying anyway. That was just so very Suboshi-ish, and it was yet another thing that she could not imagine him without.

He had always defended her, regarded simply protecting her as a source for happiness. Everytime she'd thanked him she could almost see him jumping about exploding firecrackers, and the look in his blue eyes reminded her of a little brother or sister that she'd probably never have. Was that how she thought about him? Or was it more? 

She hadn't explored her feelings for him until he died, and it was too late to tell him. It was, it had been, too late. But… what did she feel for him? Had she been so blinded by Nakago and Tamahome that she had ignored Suboshi? Was he nobler than her, trying to win her fairly and hiding his envy of Tamahome? The feelings were elusive, as though hidden by mist, like willow-the-wisps as they ran and flew to and fro, emitting soft light, in the bushes of one's heart. She couldn't even put the ones she knew of to name, neither 'friendship' nor 'kinship' was fitting… to say nothing of the unexplored depths in the puzzling turmoil of her soul. 

Or was she still unable to accept the word 'love' to describe the emotions she felt towards the teenaged blonde-haired boy?

No! she thought fiecrely, shaking her head, her fingers twining themselves sround the ribbon in a mixture of instinct and doubt. There were so many unexplored areas in her emotions, so many shrubs in the garden of her soul with bulbs unopened, so many paths untaken. After everything… It can't be love!! The second cry was almost desperate, tinged with fear of… realization? Believing in lies?

Yui gazed at the ribbon, her fingers still locked around it, then gasped as she saw that it was damp in some places, one droplet had hit the patch of 'ink' and it was beginning to spread. Suboshi… 

Another water droplet joined the first. She was crying.

She was just about to bury her face in her hands, to invent an excuse and not go to school, when she heard her mother calling. "Yui! Yui-chan!" she cried, unaware of the girl's inward struggle, and her daughter heard the creak of a door opening. "Miaka's here!" She always went to school with Miaka, she'd done so since she'd first raised her hand and saved Miaka because the Priestess of the Suzaku hadn't been able to answer the question, ever since they'd first become friends. And even after all their arguments, they'd gone to and fro from school together, though maybe they hadn't spoken to each other. Even after… even after everything. 

That seemed to be the only thing that had been constant, her going to school with Miaka, and she clung on to it, not wanting _everything_ to be gone, to have to truly start from scratch. So she got up and tied the ribbon around her collar gently, trying (and failing) not to think of Suboshi. She dried her eyes with a tissue, then washed her face quickly, the dazzling flecks of light in the water reminding her of him again, she could almost see his eyes there, staring almost indiscreetly at her. She had the urge to start sobbing again, but something in those 'eyes' had told her not to.

"Thanks, Mom," she said, joining Miaka. "Have a nice day." "You too, darling," her mother replied with a warm smile, she was so relieved to have her daughter back. Yui's lifelong friend grinned, then they turned and walked out.

******

The walk is good for me, Yui decided with a certain resignation as they reached the gates of their school. It was strange how good it felt to be back, to have a routine again. Many students, including Yui on certain occasions, complained about how boring the school looked and was, looming up like a great stone giant that was so solid and forboding. 

"Yui!" " Miaka!" Their school friends rushed down to greet them like a flock of green birds, school bags bouncing on shoulders and hips, all smiling faces and happy eyes. Yui found herself in the middle of one crowd and Miaka in the center of another, each fighting to get to the other side. 

After seeing emperors, being questioned by knights, and whatever else the two priestesses had been put through, Yui was pretty used to having at least some attention directed at her. Only, this time the people were kids and teenagers like them both, and their greetings were friendly. She warded off the most personal questions and laughed at the new rumours that had been sprouting all over the school. 

"C'mon, the bell's gonna ring any minute," Miaka commented, gazing at the clock as if she had never seen it before, and inciting more lighthearted chatter from her peers. "Yui-chan, we'd better get inside." They walked in, a laughing, happy bunch of girls, and for an instant Yui managed to surrender herself to the lightheartedness of it all, and simply chatter with them, ignoring the deep scars at the back of her mind.

******

The classroom was the same, everything in place, and for Yui it looked like a second home, a return to a reality she knew instead of a place where she had had to rely on everybody and anybody. It was nice to feel in charge and… safe at the same time, everything had come to pass, and there weren't going to be any new surprises other than the mild, nice ones that were almost welcoming. 

But, of course, the doubts remained. No, Yui decided with a tinge of irritation, not all the doubts could go away. She hadn't been there many times, she hadn't heard Nakago's past, hadn't seen Suboshi's death. In a way, she blamed herself for his death, and she didn't really know if she'd see Suboshi differently if she had been there when he'd gotten a hole punched through him by his Comet Hammer. There had been so many choices then, there had been so many junctions and crossroads, so many paths untaken…

The bell rang, and she was, strangely, thankful for it, for its loud, jarring chimes to knock her out of her pit of darkness. She postively leapt into her seat with a sigh of mingled happiness and relief at simply being back, then checked her timetable and began unpacking, heedless of the fact that everyone else was still talking. While they always talked while she sat at her seat, and 'Ice Princess,' they were always the ones who got into trouble, and, she reasoned, just because she was the white in a flock of black sheep didn't mean that she had to dye her coat. 

The teacher walked in, as comically impressive as ever, and they went to the rituals of greeting him, then sort-of dozing through the lesson, without a single notable change. Only Yui didn't want to snooze, her thoughts would wake her up, so she sat and listened, even though she was still ahead of the class in many respects. Miaka, however, was not, so she stayed awake for much more practical and pressing reasons, with a wide-eyed expression of disbelief on her face all the time.

"I can't believe I missed out so much," she whispered to Yui, who shrugged noncommitally at Miaka's surprise, for the simple reason that for her, it was nothing new. "I'll help you, then," she didn't want Miaka in any trouble, she was her friend, and they did have to catch up. 

"How 'bout a group study?" one of their friends asked, or rather hissed, as she scribbled down a note. They both nodded, they would be free, anyway, unless Miaka and Tamahome had something going on, though the Suazaku Shichiseishi had told them that they weren't to let his presence get in the way of anything. The teacher glared at them both, a double-barreled glare that showed mixed feelings of irritation and anger. Teachers do so hate to be interrupted, Yui thought, whirling her pencil round and round and her light-brown hair absentmindedly as another lesson went past. 

******

"Yui-chan, Yui-chan, nani wo shiteru no?" ("Yui, Yui, what are you doing?") Miaka clambered across two desks and over on chair to get to her best friend, a flash of concern visible for a second on her cute features. Yui knew what she was worried about, she was worried that Yui was going to start thinking again, going to start trying to sort out her hectic love life again. She reached out a hand, then stopped halfway, realizing that she needed no help.

"I'm… fine, Miaka." She _was_ fine, at least, she was physically fit, so there was really no reason why she shouldn't be down with the others having a well-deserved break. Break? Part of her mind almost seemed to chuckle mockingly at her, telling her what she knew quite well – there would be no breaks for a long, long time. "I just thought I'd do a little studying… You know, catching up on lost time." She sounded vague and listless, she knew, but the excitement (was it really that?) of coming back to school had kept her awake the night before, so, in a way, it was true. 

Miaka chuckled cutely, smiling with a dreamy expression on her face. "Oh, I wouldn't call it 'lost', Yui-chan," she said laughingly, "I think I used that time very well." She was referring to Tamahome and all the other handsome males chasing after her, of course. Miaka sure had had it easy. Suzaku Shichiseishi indeed, Yui thought crossly, finding a little solace in the sarcasm of it all. It was so much like a fairytale story of gallant princes and beautiful big-bosomed captured maidens… in Miaka's case. Yui was surprised at how bitter the last words were, as if she begrudged her friend's good luck. "Well, Miaka, I'm happy that you're content with a fail for the next test, busy with Tamahome as you are," she answered without even glancing upwards, the timely reminder of what had transpired just a few weeks before made her anger blossom again. Only, she mused, there had been seven gallant princes for Miaka, and a big fat zero for me. 

Miaka pouted, a gesture which had doubtless won Tamahome's, not to mention Taisuki's, Nuriko's, Hotohori's, and Amiboshi's forgiveness and love, and flounced off in a huff. Yui tried to surpress a smile of mingled affection and gentleness as she turned back to her book, wondering just when she had started feeling so close and protective towards the brown-haired girl. The answer came too quickly for comfort, and there was no comfort in it.

Yui forced her thoughts back and concentrated on her studies for the rest of recess, without any interruptions. Miaka must have told everyone that I'm pissed, so they're not coming up, she thought as she closed her Math textbook. For once, she was grateful for the silence.

Ah, well, now there's only my English left, and after that I'm done. She grinned, reaching for the book and flipping it open, seeing the pages toss and turn. They fell, as usual, randomly, and Yui wondered later what strange twist of fate had made them fall on precisely that page on nouns, and why her eyes had landed on precisely that section. 

She scanned it, the familiar words printed on nice, neat lines staring back at her. Gift, Present…. Where have I read these words before? 

_She unpacked her books, running her hands over each battered cover, trying to push back the feelings of loneliness and homesickness, a tidal wave of sorrow that assailed her. She bit her lip, riding the waves of grief, letting everything wash over her without focusing on much. I miss you all so very, very much, she thought hopelessly. She did miss them all, her mother and father and Tetsuya and Keichi…. But there was nothing she could do about it. _

The answer was coming too quickly, way too quickly. Yui tried to stop it from making itself known, a realization so long denied, tried to prevent the answer from coming, but it was futile. It had always been. Do I have to ride this tsunami again? she asked herself in anguish, the book dropping to the floor from limp hands.

_"Yui-sama, nani wo shiteru desu ka?" ("Lady Yui, what might you be doing?") Suboshi lifted the tent flap and peeked inside almost shyly, then stepped in as confidently as ever. He crossed the room in a few strides, coming to stand quite near her (a few meters, perhaps) as she looked up from her work. She should have known that Suboshi, who could hear even cat-footed Tamahome's approach, would doubtless be roused by her monotonous voice droning on and on in his dreams. "Oh, its just my studies… the ones I did on Earth." _

Again, him. Why couldn't she leave Suboshi alone? He would have probably been flattered to know that his mistress was so concerned about him, but that oh-so-prominent sarcastic streak of his would most likely make him say something like, "You noticed, Yui-sama!" She'd probably laugh, that chuckle he found so endearing, and reply with equal sarcasm. She could just imagine the scene, the two of them sitting together, Yui all bundled up in blankets because the night was cold, Suboshi tending to the fire and sending sparks flying everywhere, he was able to control the sparks with his _chi_, so she never felt afraid of getting burnt…

She knew him so well, so well that she could almost picture another firelit night with Suboshi, the scene would be so romantic, but neither of them would do anything. It was something that neither of them needed to do, they never made any 'moves' towards each other. Suboshi was, in her opinion, simply too young, and she didn't want to lead him down what was most likely a blind alley.

A… blind alley?

So many things unchanged, so many paths untaken… Was Suboshi's love so pure that she hadn't been able to accept it, that she'd been fooled by dreams of Tamahome liking her and a Nakago unplagued by hatred? But…. Suboshi had believed Nakago. He had served him faithfully, or at least as faithfully as the confident, obsessive, and strangely cute blonde-haired boy could.

The answer, she knew, was near. Just around the corner, one might say. But just like the corners, sharp angles that didn't give one any time to adjust to the new sensations, the answer was hidden. And Yui was afraid, though she didn't know it. Afraid of that answer.

"RIIIINNNGGG!"

Yui smiled at the bell, she could have sworn that she'd heard those chimes in the classroom more than in the tuckshop. She tossed the book into her bag, resolutely deciding not to think about anything for the entire next lesson.

It was (and is) easier to make such a vow than to keep it.

******

Yui always wondered what the teachers had planned, why they chose to announce that they were planning to study Chinese history just that week, and then they said that there would be a field trip, and then she knew she had to go. Her parents had always insisted that she should be happy that she was getting a wonderful (if not pressurising) education and she should 'grab as many opportunities as possible', namely, go on the excursion. She didn't know what made her feel so bad and strange on that day, like she was going to an exhibition of live cockroaches instead of a museum.

The girls, of course, chatted about the handsome tour guides and what they were planning to eat, and all of them had their parents' consent. Yui tried hard not to think about the Chinese _samfu_ which Tamahome wore and Amiboshi's elegantly embroidered silk jacket, they kept on popping up inside her head and making her think. 

******

The exhibition was wonderful, with lots of ancient artefacts imported directly from China, beautiful paintings of lakes and rivers and mountains and more practical things such as cooking utensils and chicken baskets. Their guide was well-trained, and gave them a running commentary on the various aspects of life in ancient China. Miaka kept on nodding knowingly, and Yui was sorely tempted to tell her that the world in the Legends of the Four Gods was exactly like ancient China, but just without the handsome males. 

"This tour is so boring," Miaka whispered, pretending to sleep. "I know all this stuff." Yui decided that since it was rare for Miaka to be proficient in any subject, it was better to let the girl snore for a while. Then they turned a corner and entered the weapons section then, and Yui should have known that her blind happiness at simply being normal again couldn't last.

"Among the many weapons here, some of which were crafted in Japan along Chinese guidelines, are some aspects of the Chinese milita…" The guide droned on, gesturing at each and every rusted sword and tarnished metal shield. 

Yui glanced from each weapon to the next, only mildly interested. The tour guide waved his hand to indicate an object which was enclosed in a thin glass case. It was clean and polished, unlike the other rusty, musty-smelling weapons, and lay on a blue cushion that made its lighter shades of azure show up. "This is the only weapon that bears resemblance to ancient Chinese artefacts, but it was neither made here nor imported from China. In fact, after a, uh, highly dangerous incident involving an unidentified teenager who tried attacking an unarmed girl, but was then killed in the ensuing conflict, we found this on the ground and trans..." Yui never knew what he would have said next. 

In fact, when she had first seen the object, the strange, almost joyful feeling of being reunited with something (someone?) important had come over her, but the guide's talk explained it all. That weapon.... It was so nostalgic.

"That weapon..." Why couldn't she remember where she had seen it last? It was so familiar, with its long, brown, weather-beaten rope of straw and other fibres, connected to two sky-blue orbs with a tassel at their ends. Sky-blue, sky-blue, within whose eyes could she see that ice-like depth?

"Suboshi!! Suboshi no Ryuseitsui wo kaese!" ("Suboshi!! Return Suboshi's Comet Hammer!") she screamed, raising one fist and bringing it down in anger, smashing the thin glass of the case with one swift blow and grabbing the contents of the case with her uninjured hand. She couldn't hear the guards shouting, or the girls squealing, or Miaka shrieking "Yui! Yui!" There was nothing, nothing besides Suboshi's voice echoing around and around in her head. 

The Ryuseitsui still clutched in her fist, Yui ran, leaving behind nothing but a trail of pearly drops of water. Salty water. 

******

Suboshi.... It was nearly midnight, and Yui sat on her bed, trembling, the Commet Hammer on her lap. Why did I do this? Whether she asked Suboshi or herself was beyond her, and she cried with shock and pain. She ran one finger carelessly over the thick rope connecting both the 'balls' together, still shaking. 

She didn't remember reaching home, or unlocking the door with fingers numb with pain. She had bandaged her hand, but the shock from the enormity of what she had done remained. She stared at the strips of white cloth around her wrist, and did what she'd said - vowed - she wouldn't do. She thought.

About everyone, everybody, everything. And, most of all, why she had taken away the Commet Hammer. Suboshi's Commet Hammer. It held so many memories, that weapon. The number of times she'd seen it shoot out, veering around corners and angles as though it had a mind of its own, and always knowing that the boy who was so dedicated to her held the other end. 

Suboshi had always managed to find and/or defend her, even when she'd deliberately lost him by throwing a handful of snow into his face. He'd still managed to 'protect' her, causing Tamahome to leap away and disappear. And she'd been looking foward to having a nice long chat with Tamahome, too. But...

_Suboshi turned around to look at her over his shoulder, eyes flaming with anger at having his prey escape his clutches. "Kare wa anata no suki na hito wo wakattemasu, Yui-sama... Dakara... Dakara!" ("I understand that he is the man you like, Lady Yui... But... But!") What was the ending of that sentence she didn't know, because she'd simply told him to stop pestering her. _

She'd done that a lot, hadn't she? She was pretty sure Nakago could flirt if he wanted to, and likewise for Tamahome, but Suboshi? That was a joke and a half. Suboshi simply was very blunt, very irritating, and strangely... cute. That hadn't been flirting, Suboshi had been trying to show his interest in her without making it obvious. More like without making it very obvious, because it already _was_ obvious.. 

But why oh why had she gone half- mad and taken Suboshi's weapon? Even while she had been doing it her mind had been dazed and confused, full of thoughts and images and feelings. 

Yui lay down, the weapon still clutched tightly in her fist, and closed her eyes, ready for another sleepless night. "I hate you, Suboshi," she said sarcastically, cursing the person who'd caused her to get into such trouble. The full weight of what she had done seemed to fall on her then, making her sigh. Images of Suboshi flashed through her exhausted mind with surprising clarity before her head drooped and she slept. 

******

Today is Saturday, thank God, Yui thought. She knew that if it had been a school day, her friends would have asked all sorts of silly questions, and her hand ached. She slept late, lying on her bed almost afraid to wake up, until her mother called her a lazy brat. She cradled her numb, bloody hand in her lap and suddenly felt a poke from something she had been sitting on. It was one of the Commet Hammer's 'balls.' 

I slept with this under me? she thought, blushing. Then she pushed the weapon under her pillow, still blushing, and walked out. Her mother had almost finished doling porridge into her plate with a ladle before the noticed Yui's obvious difficulty in holding the bowl.

"Yui, what happened to your hand?" her mother cried, rushing over to pick it up. Her father put down the newspaper and came to see, then started touching her palm and asking where it was painful. It wasn't painful. It was the reason behind what she had done that was more painful than her hand. 

"We had better get to the doctor, Yui," her mother took a jacket off the hook on the wall and spooned a couple of mouthfuls in to Yui's mouth before helping her stand. Yui changed with her parents' help, then they left for the doctor. 

******

"Lucky you came, really," said the doctor as he applied antiseptic cream to Yui's thousands of scratches. "A little later and she'd been poisoned." Yui's mum sighed in relief, and some of the feeling was coming back into her daughter's hand. 

Suboshi.... Yui trembled slightly, remembering what it felt like to hold Suboshi around the waist as she rode behind him, so close and yet so far from the cliff's edge. Yui barely listened to the doctor prescribe medicine and what dosage when, her mother would take care of that. 

. Perhaps she had better think more about him.... He was so much to her, she realised... She could never imagine life without Suboshi. He had always been there, sort of like a confidante and friend and younger brother all in one. And something more. 

What, though?

Yui couldn't help but wonder what she would feel if it had been Suboshi holding her hand and applying antiseptic. She shivered without knowing why, then they got up to go home. 

******

RIIIINNNNGGG, RIIIINNNNNGGGG! The telephone was, as Yui noticed before she'd even stepped into the flat, ringing. With a vengeance, it seemed. She used her other hand to pick it up, then placed the reciver to her ear and barked a hostile "hello?"

"Yui-chan!" Miaka's voice was wonderfully cheerful, and she seemed genuinely delighted. "Is your hand alright?" "Yeah." Yui really didn't feel like talking then, but she knew that a few minutes of lighthearted chatter with Miaka might lift her spirits. "Um, Yui-chan, Tamahome and I are going out for sodas, so.... would you like to come along?" Was Miaka being polite to ease her pain? Well, Yui suddenly realised that she wanted to ask Tamahome something.

******

"Tamahome…" It was quite a touchy question, the one that she was about to ask, but she felt that she had to ask, it was time someone told her something of the truth for a change. _"The truth sometimes wounds the innocent."_ Where had she heard that quote before? Well, I'm wounded enough, so it doesn't matter, she thought ruefully. And she needed to know something, anything that could explain her hopeless yearning for him. "Tamahome…"

He turned to face her, purple eyes concerned. "What is it, Yui?" She looked down, unsure of how to phrase her sentence. There were two priorities – she got her information, and Tamahome didn't explode. "Uh, Tamahome…" 

"Spit it out, Yui." Miaka advised, looking up from her fifth dish of ice-cream "the faster, the better." She winked, obviously suspecting that her best friend had a crush on somebody. Miaka sure was riveting back to her old ways, thinking about so-and-so and so-and-so again. Maybe being teased mercilessly by her peers had helped, but it had done absolutely nothing to Yui. "Tamahome… Suboshi…"

The mere mention of his name, the name of the person who had killed his entire family, caused Tamahome to do what Yui had feared he would do – explode. Steam gushed out of his ears for several tense moments before he calmed down enough to investigate the state of his girlfriend. "What do you want to know about that bastard?" he demanded with a stare like an eagle's, practically spitting out the words. "He loves you, so what? It doesn't make him an angel in my book!" He glared at her as though she had spolit his entire day and sat down still steaming. 

Yui looked down, thinking. Suboshi, like all humans, had both evil and good within him, fair enough. And yet, she couldn't really blame him, his brother had just died, and he had simply repaid the loss of family with loss of family, in his case, slaughtering Tamahome's siblings and father. But the night, that night, she had been walking past his room, and she had heard everything. At that time, she'd felt as though she was petrified, his voice wasn't like the confident boy she'd gotten to know, more like a child whose parents lay slaughtered before him, feeling their combined pain tenfold and trying to face the life he'd have to lead. 

_She stopped short near Suboshi's room, clenching the mug of tea so hard in her hands that she thought the fragile china would break. She heard a low moan, and the disbelief in it was heartrending, only that now she could put a face to the sound. "Suboshi…"_

He hadn't even wanted to believe it then. The fact that he was bordering on manhood and independence had forced him to put it aside, forced him to struggle to build a life without his brother and only relation. At least she'd always had her parents. At least Tamahome had had his family until the age of eighteen, a happy family for eighteen years, full of laughter and life. Suboshi had never been so lucky – his parents had died before his eyes, leaving only himself and his brother burdened with a power they had to accept to stay alive. 

_"Aniki, Aniki!"("Brother, brother!") Still so disbelieving, so like a lost child. Yui had wanted to go in there and take his hand, but would Suboshi accept her help, help from a person who'd had a family, and a happy one at that? Even while she was thinking his voice carried across to her, though she wanted more than anything to cut out the sound. "Boku no karada… nani mo kangeru nai!" ("My body… I can't feel anything!") Oh, it was so hard to bear his pain and unhappiness. _

"Tamahome…" She didn't know why she did what she did, but Suboshi's pain-filled words echoed in her head again and again, so like a child. A lost, unhappy child with neither home nor comfort, without warmth and a gentle helping hand to guide him through the world. It was the despairation in those words, like Suboshi couldn't bring himself to believe that he had lost everything. "Tamahome, you're way too harsh!" She looked straight into those amethyst orbs then, both eyes filled with anger, and they stared at each other for what seemed an eternity. She felt angry, not only at Tamahome, but at her wilful blindness at Suboshi's grief, so angry that she didn't even realise that she was admitting the thing which she had convinced herself was untrue. And she said it all, one statement that both blamed herself and Tamahome for a path of darkness that one poor lost child had been forced to tread, one sentence that spoke of a hundred things that could have been done and paths that had been left untaken. 

"You're so harsh, you never tried to help either of them, after all, you seemed to be so good and kind and everything! And... nobody ever tried to help him..."

The pain in those words, both to Tamahome and Yui herself, it was like a sharp stab in the heart. She realised it all, realised that there was so much she could have done, so much help she could have given to that poor lost child. 

"I'm... sorry. I think I'll go." She mumbled those words hastily, then turned and ran out.

******

_"And.... nobody ever tried to help him..."_

It was so true. Too true, in fact. Yui could have bashed herself on the head for not realizing what she could have done for Suboshi, what she could have told him and done for him. She could have helped him through those dark days, could have helped him learn that there were other people whom he could love, that even an outcast like him could also be cherished deep within someone's heart. 

But if she had wanted to do that, she would have to set examples, her parents had told her that once. She knew right then and there the truth, the reality that she had denied. He'd always been there for her, putting aside his own grief to comfort her, he'd listen, quiet and solemn, while she accused him of things that he hadn't done, but he had understood. He had understood the hatred born of sorrow, the 'madness' which made one blame everything, and sometimes go on blaming everything, as Nakago had. She remembered screaming at him, trying not to cry, and he simply sat there, sat there listening to all his troubles being shouted out by the woman he loved. 

He hadn't been able to do anything except listen, he didn't even hold her, she'd told him that he wasn't hers, and that had been enough to end everything. He had wanted so much to be loved, so much to be treasured by someone special, and his precious Yui-sama had been the only one fit for that role. He had asked her without words to be his companion and the mother he had never had, and in return, he would give her the only gift that he had – his love. And she had backed away from that offer, ran from a pit of darkness that she could have healed. 

So many things unchanged, so many paths untaken….

She could have loved Suboshi. 

No, Yui thought to herself, that wasn't right. 

And she remembered, remembered a night in the palace, a cold night when she had walked along one brightly lit corridor with Nakago towards a pit of darkness, which she had to enter… Alone, or not at all.

_She heard his whimpers of pain, both physical and mental, long before she reached the room. Nakago looked as calm as ever, as though Suboshi was nothing that concerned him. They stopped outside the open doorway, and the beam of light now obscured by their bodies seemed to fall only on Suboshi, who looked like he had burnt himself out. His sobs were dry now, tears leaking out of those sky-like eyes, clutching at his body as though he was cold. As though the loss of his brother had taken away all the warmth in his life. _

She had felt pity then, pity for Suboshi, and that was what had made her step in.

_She had come close, unsure of what to say. Was there an etiquette for grief? How could there be? But she wished that there was one that day. She wished that there was something she could say to Suboshi, but she had had to make do with the normal stuff. It hurt her to say it, hurt her to admit that she didn't know how to comfort him. The words sounded paper thin, and had no effect. She knelt on the floor beside him, and he looked up at her. The sorrow had brought him beyond reason, beyond politeness and forgiveness. _

"Just shut up, okay?" he said to the Priestess of the Seiryuu, voice bitter like a stroke of defiance through the tears. "How can you possibly understand why these tears come?" He had been correct. She couldn't understand, nobody as close to her as Amiboshi was to Suboshi had ever died as horribly as that. 

She had always lied to herself that that one action had never sparked anything, that it had given her no romantic connections to Suboshi. She could almost believe it, occupied with Nakago and Tamahome, but there had always been a part at the back of her mind that had wondered about the blonde-haired, extremely overconfident blue-eyed boy, and she'd always said that it was merely concern, parental concern. Concern for Suboshi like the sort of care a mother would show for her son, the sort of love he never had. But it had been such a lie. 

__

She knelt down beside Suboshi and put her arms around him gently, placing her head near his own. He was warm, so warm, and trembling with sorrow and weakness. "If you want to cry, then cry," she said gently, closing her eyes. "If you really need to cry, then it's okay to cry…" Over and over again. 

No, it was not that she could have loved Suboshi.

It was that….

She loved Suboshi. She had always loved him.

It had been a different sort of love, where they protected each other, where neither was the better. Yui had wanted to feel sheltered and protected, and have a person who would hold her whenever a single bit of trouble came up. But there were some times when Suboshi couldn't hold her, he felt too much pain at those times, or he simply didn't know what to do. After all, they were both children.

Yes, she loved Suboshi, and she could have loved him. She could have accepted that offer. But those were things she could have done. Those were the things she had left unchanged, the paths left untaken, the past. 

The past.

One tear made its way down her cheek, leaving a faint, damp trail in its wake. But those tears could never bring Suboshi back, just as his own tears could never bring Amiboshi back. But the tears still came, as tears do, just like people sometimes do things even if they are futile, even if they have given away their only chance. And it was for those exact same reasons that Yui said what she did.

"I love you, Suboshi." 

And with that, she bid him her last goodbye.

******

_Seventy years later....._

Yui lay in bed, blanket piled high upon her, glazed eyes that weren't sharp anymore staring blankly at the ceiling. A monk sat next to her, stirring a pot of soup. It had been like this for a long time, after all, she had never had children to take care of her, so the monks did so. 

She was bored of it. Bored of this endless existence, so helpless. She didn't even really mind dying, now. Just something to end this... this drag that was once her life.

The world went foggy all of a sudden, nearly catching Yui by surprise. But for some reason, she didn't feel scared. There was no fear, no happiness, only an apprehensive stillness that seemed to be waiting for something with calm certainty, a serenity that Yui had displayed many times. It came as no surprise to her to be able to wait like that again, she had never forgotten how, and when, she had done it. Even on her deathbed, lying there, absolutely immobile, she felt quite at peace. There was only the waiting, the waiting for something… a special something or someone, to arrive. It might have been death, but there were another hundred other possibilities were to be embraced in those moments. 

And then, she could almost view her life again, anything to shorten the waiting. Yes, she was certain it, whatever it was, would come, but she wanted to see everything again, view it with a clear mind, unclouded by the urgency of some of those moments. 

Thoughts and images passed through her frail, almost senile head, recognizable and almost perfectly clear despite the fog. But the fog was only the outer world, there was an inner world, another world.

Yes, there was another world. 

She remembered it now, after so long. Sixty years of life suddenly flew away as though borne by the Seiryuu to another dimension without time, and she could remember it all as though it had only come about yesterday. Tamahome and Miaka were sitting next to her, both of them worried sick. Yes, Tamahome came from that world, the memory of its lush, green forests and bare deserts full of cacti came back to her, along with treasured pictures of cozy tents, nursing small, controllable fires and warm, silken sheets that were so inviting, where she'd shared many a firelit night. That other world, she had been whisked from her homeland into a rollercoaster of adventures and realisations that had told her more about life than all her time on Earth ever had. 

Yes, the people, the country. She'd revived the Seiryuu, been eaten, then saved. Those many paradoxes, love and hatred woven together like threads on a loom, a story like the dark side of a fairytale, where the gallant prince killed ruthlessly and the knight dies for his princess, the castles burned and the people refugees on the run. And, perhaps most of all, people had died, against her and for her. And there had still been love, along the way. Somehow, there had been love, though it had been 'unclean', without truth or simplicity.

She'd be joining them soon. Replaying everything again, seeing everyone again, she began to see how much she'd missed, how blind she had been. Nakago, his hatred and bitterness, Soi, a woman dedicated to her mission and love, Tomo, whom she didn't really care about, Amiboshi, his unwillingness to fight, and Suboshi…

Suboshi….

That was when she felt it. It was indescribable, a slight change in the fabric of the overwhelming peace around her, and her certainty that that special something was coming increased, it was near, and she could almost feel its warmth. It was as though she'd always felt that warmth and had it, as though it had always been near her, only that it was coming closer now, always having kept a respectful distance away, with the faintest touch of confidence and outright happiness. 

She suddenly felt light, light and gay, and the blankets became more and more oppressively heavy and hot, piled on her as they were. She wanted to run, but she couldn't shock Tamahome and Miaka, so she contented herself with the feeling of how close the warmth was coming. 

She could follow it each step of its way, a familiar, confident tread, soft and gentle like a cat's. It was as if she could walk beside it, without feeling the cold of the snow, all the bitterness and grief of her life being washed away, just like a fire's warmth had broken over her like a wave, making her stop shivering and feeling sorry for herself. 

The wait might have been long, it might have been short, too. There seemed to be no time, everything was short and yet long, or somewhere just nice in between. It knew her too, knew her well, and gave her what it had the way she wanted it, a feeling of being loved without need of anything to ascertain the fact, it simply was. 

And it was there. Or rather, he was there. He had come, as she had known, because she had followed him every single step of the way, and she felt happy at that moment, so happy that there was no room for anything else, not even death. 

Tamahome's ears were still sharp, he heard the faint crack of the snow being crushed gently, as though under a boot made of real leather, not the cheap stuff at the market, and got up to open the door for their visitor. Miaka also looked up, she wanted to see their guest, there was no other reason why a person would come this far out into the woods. Yui already knew who it was, there was no need for her to crane her neck under those stuffy bedsheets, and got up, careful to make no sound and controlling, with surprising ease, the feelings welling up within her. 

The door opened with a slight creak, and Tamahome gasped and had to grasp it's handle to keep his balance. Yui felt as though fireworks were bursting in her head, he was here, he had come, and it was all she could do to hold her position and wait for him to make his appearance, he had always been a step behind her, watching her back, but now he could go first. 

He was there.

He was standing in the snow, the flakes of ice swirling around him in a hazy pattern, waiting quite patiently. His blonde hair was still kept back by his bandanna, and still swept down his neck like a waterfall, so like the way she always remembered him and seen him, as though but a day had passed since he had gone. Huge blue eyes like the sunlit sea gazed at her unwaveringly, a thousand emotions swirling within their azure depths, each one understood and accepted. A smile played about his lips, the beginning of that cocky grin that she couldn't see him without. They looked at each other for long moments, and suddenly she couldn't hold the happiness back, he had come, come back for her as she had known he would, and then…

"Suboshi?"

"Yui-sama…" She ran to him, seeing only Suboshi, who had come as she had known he would. And then there was nothing, nothing but the warmth and the joy of simply being with him. She pulled him close, burying her head in his shirt and snuggling deeper. He hugged her fiercely, arms in that strong, tight hold that she'd been held in so many times, and she knew then that as long as she was with him, there would never be any more doubt about their feelings towards one another. She could stay in his arms, just like now, in that warm embrace, and there wouldn't be anymore sorrow or grief or anything like that. 

"Suboshi…" She said his name gently, savouring every syllable, and looked up at him. And she knew then that it was not goodbye, Tamahome and Miaka would come soon, and she'd see everyone, Nakago and Soi and everybody whom she had or hadn't known, but, most of all, Suboshi would be there, by her side like those days of hatred and fear, to hold her and simply be close to her. He gazed back, smiling now, and she knew that their journey was only beginning.

Yes, their journey, a journey of love and joy, happiness within those things that could have been different, paths that could have been tread. 

******

I finished it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOOORRRAAAYYY!!!!

Okay, it's my first finished work (unless you count stupid stuff like school compos and The Killer Tamagotchi. ^_^), so I'm real happy. Of cousre, I'll have to revise it and 'brush it up', make it better, but it's done. Please, any comments are welcome. Thanks!!! ^_^


End file.
